Unused Supports: Haar & Sothe
by ancazur
Summary: That one-eyed old man isn't as lazy as he seems.
1. C Support

_C support_

Camp was decidedly different after a battle had been fought, when unnamed soldiers retired to their tents or chatted around a fire or were just _people_. And as day pushed into night, with the sun dipping to sleep and the moon rising overhead, more and more of them disappeared into their tents, resting for another early battle the next day. But not Sothe. He was crouched behind a tree, skinning the bark off a fallen branch with his knife. It was a waste of a good weapon, but there was nothing else to do while he was buying time.

A pretty red-haired soldier was shouting on the other side of the tree—maybe lecturing, or being stern, something like that—and it felt like forever until she finally went away. Sothe peered around the tree, careful not to make any sudden moves, and watched as the red-haired lady disappeared, stomping her feet. He smiled as he snaked around the trunk. He was now face-to-face with that lazy old man with the eyepatch, who was leaned against the other side of the tree, sleeping as always.

Sothe almost felt guilty for what he was about to do, but it was the natural order of things—those who don't have, take, and those who _do_ have should freely give. And what did the old man need with all that gold, anyway? He didn't look rich or anything, but it was obvious that he didn't live in the slums. Sothe didn't know much, but he knew _that_. And anyone who was set higher on the social ladder was game.

The guy was asking for it, anyway, sleeping with his wallet hanging from his waist. Probably thought it was safe or something, attaching it to his belt, but it was a laugh to any experienced thief. Sothe studied the guy's face for signs of movement as his fingers worked at the rope, quickly and quietly unknotting it. He didn't want much. Just a couple gold pieces, and if he needed more, the guy was sure to be sleeping oblivious the next day, too.

The old guy went on snoring like nothing happened. Sothe knotted up the coin purse before slipping behind the tree. He allowed himself a deep breath as he dropped the two gold coins into his pocket.

"That wasn't very nice," a voice drawled. Sothe couldn't help himself—he yelped, clamping a hand over his mouth. _Stupid! _"I know you're still there," he said through a yawn. Well he couldn't run _now_. He was good, but he wasn't _that_ good to escape unnoticed at this point. So he stood motionless in his spot instead, hoping the guy would stop talking. But somehow he knew he wouldn't be that lucky. "You know," the old guy said, "you could've just asked if you wanted something. We all trust one another here, right? You don't have to do that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sothe hadn't intended to answer but he almost felt bad for the guy, sitting there like he was talking to himself.

"No? Fine." Sothe could see his arms stretch into a _V _over the sides of the trunk and heard an elaborate yawn, like the low of a cow. "I see how it is. Oh well." There was a clatter of armor as the guy stood up, but he didn't come around. "I'm Haar," he said.

Sothe crouched again out of instinct, like the guy wouldn't be able to see him if he was closer to the ground. If he was going to turn around at all. "Sothe," he answered.

"Well. Good night, Sothe." He listened for the slow tread of footsteps, disappearing in the direction of camp. _What the heck is with that guy?_ he thought, jingling the coins in his pocket.


	2. B Support

_B support_

The tent he had to pass was lit from within, shadows of its occupants dancing on the canvas walls. Sothe crouched low as he passed; it would look suspicious if General Ike noticed him creeping around this time of night. It was bad enough that he caught him as a stowaway, and Sothe didn't want to think about those big hands grasping at his shirt again. But the superior officers were too busy arguing to notice his small shadow creeping outside. Sothe was tempted to stop for a moment when he heard a voice raise in anger—he guessed it was that moody strategist—but that would be an invitation to get caught. He silently scurried by.

_Now, where is that old man . . . _

He had managed to avoid Haar all during the day's battle, though it wasn't really that hard. The old guy spent all his time up in the sky, while Sothe was stuck to the ground. That would be cool, though, if he could fly; it would make a lot of things easier, anyway, and maybe he wouldn't have to depend on that General Ike at all.

"Ah, it's my little friend."

Sothe stopped short, silently cursing himself. Why did that guy have to wear black all the time? Didn't he know that was a thief's color, sneaking around in the dark like that? Sothe looked around the seemingly deserted area and finally saw him seated against a tree. Haar was smirking at him, hands behind his head and stretched-out legs crossed at the ankles.

Sothe gritted his teeth. "Don't you do anything but sleep?" he asked.

Haar shrugged. "Why would I want to? Sleep is good." Sothe watched as he stood up, lifting his head to meet Haar's one-eyed, half-lidded gaze. He wanted to get out of there, even if his instinct wouldn't let him. "You ready to fess up yet?"

"What are you talking about, old man?"

"Old man?" Sothe had intentionally been trying to offended him, but he seemed more amused than anything else. Haar scratched the back of his neck. "I don't _feel_ old. I'm in pretty good shape, if you ask me."

Sothe broke their eye contact—it was really awkward, anyway, with the guy only having one eye—and stared at his feet. He dug a shallow hole in the dirt with his toe, but stopped when he suspected the coins in his pocket would start to rattle. He didn't even know why he still had them; there was plenty to buy in the towns they passed through all the time.

"You got someone you care about?" Sothe asked suddenly, remembering the pretty red-haired lady he saw yelling at him, again, while he was napping, again. He watched Haar's eyebrows raise, which was kind of weird since one of them was framing an eyepatch.

"Sure," he said. "Do you?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why you take things from others?"

Sothe's cheeks burned. "I didn't take anything, all right?" And he turned and ran without waiting for a reply, angry at the old man for butting into his business. The coins jingled in his pocket as he turned a corner, swearing that he would buy himself a new shirt tomorrow or a knife or something just to get rid of it.


	3. A Support

_A support_

It wasn't like he didn't _try_ to spend the money. It even seemed like fate when the army passed through a market, with all kinds of shiny things tempting him. But he wasn't much in the mood to swipe them, and he didn't even want to spend the gold that was burning a hole in his pocket. In fact, Sothe _really_ didn't understand what he was doing when he was roaming camp, looking for that lazy guy with the wyvern. He should be easy to spot, right? With the wyvern?

He spotted the red-haired lady first, and he was glad to see that she wasn't yelling at him for once. Not that he cared. But Haar wasn't sleeping this time, either, so he guessed that had something to do with it. He hung back, trying not to eavesdrop, even though he picked up some key words like _father_ and _values_ and . . . _Talrega_? Wasn't that in Daein? Why would they be talking about Daein? He inched closer.

Much to his disappointment the conversation seemed to be over, as the red-haired lady was walking away. But Sothe should have known better than to think Haar hadn't noticed him.

"Do you need something, Sothe?"

He hadn't exactly been hiding, but it still felt weird to be noticed. "Looks like you're not sleeping, for a change."

"Mmm. Not by choice."

"Who's the pretty lady?" Sothe craned his neck around, though she had already disappeared into the bustle of camp.

"You mean Jill? She's the daughter of my mentor." His voice cracked on the word _mentor_, but Sothe pretended not to notice. "My _old_ mentor. He was killed."

"Oh. That's . . . sorry. By who?"

"Us."

Sothe fiddled with a belt around his waist, looking everywhere but at Haar's face. But he knew the guy was watching him, waiting for him to say something, but what could you say when a guy just told you something like that?

But Sothe didn't have to say anything, because Haar kept on talking. "You're from Daein, too, I take it."

He backed up a few steps, suddenly suspicious. "What?! How did you know?"

"I saw you listening to our conversation. You seemed a lot more interested when we brought up Talrega."

"Oh. Right." That should have been obvious; he felt like an idiot. "That's where you are the pretty lady are from?"

"Jill," he said. "Yes. And you?"

"Nevassa."

Haar nodded, as if he understood something Sothe wouldn't come out and say. As if the word _Nevassa_ itself explained everything about him, everything about his life. He didn't want to elaborate, and he was glad that Haar didn't ask.

"Here." Sothe fished the two gold coins out of his pocket, the same coins that he never got around to spending. Haar opened his palm, and the coins _clink_ed into his hand. "I . . . um . . . I found them."

"Did you?" He chuckled. "Well, thanks for returning them to me." Haar slipped the coins into wallet. "Hey, Sothe. If you want . . . we can talk sometime. About home. I know how it is out here."

Sothe shrugged. "Okay, I guess. You won't fall asleep on me or anything, right?"

"Can't make that promise."


End file.
